Madge rowed slowly and cautiously along. She tried to keep at a safe distance from the land while she strained her eyes for a glimmer of light that might come from either one of their boats. She was growing tired, for she was beginning to feel the effects of her long row. Her arms and back ached. All at once she became stupidly sleepy. She wondered dimly what on earth Miss Jenny Ann and the girls would do if they discovered that she had disappeared. What would Miss Betsey Taylor think of her now, when she learned that she, Madge Morton, had gone out on the river alone at night without a word to any one?
Madge sleepily pulled on her oars. She wished that she had persuaded Phil to come out on the water with her. Now the loneliness of the deserted river began to oppress her. She could have fallen over in the boat from sheer exhaustion. Through the darkness she suddenly saw a flickering light. Thank goodness, she was home at last! The light came from the left bank of the river, where their boats were moored. Madge rowed joyfully toward it. A little further in she saw that the light was on land. She had seen only its reflection in the water.
After another half hour's steady pulling Madge believed that she must have passed by their boats. Surely she could not have gone so far up the river as she had rowed down. She turned her boat and began to retrace her way, then drew in a few yards nearer the shore. Danger or no danger, she must not pass the houseboat by again. She wondered if she would have to stay out on the water until the dawn came to show her the way home. She would have to cease rowing and let the boat drift. She was too tired to keep on. She was growing so drowsy. All at once the "Water Witch" trembled violently. It gave a forward leap in the dark and went downward. Madge was thrown roughly forward. But she kept a firm grasp on her oars. She could not see, yet she knew exactly what had happened. Her boat had gone over some falls in the river. There was nothing for her to do but to try to stay in her boat. The "Water Witch" might overturn, or else right herself, at the end of her downward plunge.
The little skiff did neither. At the end of the falls she was caught in a swift whirlpool. Crouched in the boat, with her teeth clenched and her eyes watching the white spray that she could see even in the darkness, Madge felt her boat rotate like a wheel. She had never let go her oars. Now she braced herself with all her strength and gave one forward, final pull. The "Water Witch" leaped ahead. It was safely out of the eddy and in the current. But Madge's oar struck against a rock. It snapped in two and the lower half went floating with the stream. There was a grating sound, then she felt her boat ground between two rocks and stick fast.
Ahead the river seemed to gurgle and splash alarmingly. There might be other falls and whirlpools in her course. Madge had sense enough to know when she was beaten. If she pushed out from the rocks, where her boat was caught, with her single oar, she might find herself in far worse danger. She was grateful that the "Water Witch" had run aground.
Madge lay down in the bottom of her boat. She would wait until the daylight came and see what was best to be done. She did not mean to go to sleep, for she realized her peril. She idly watched a single star that shone through the clouds, then her heavy eyelids closed and she fell asleep to the sound of the water beating against the side of her skiff.
CHAPTER VII
THE RESCUE
WHEN Madge opened her eyes the sun was shining into them. It was already broad daylight. Her boat was no longer held fast between rocks. In the night it had made its own way out and had floated toward the land. It was now only a few yards from the shore. With her one oar Madge pushed herself gently toward land.
Hills rose up along the river bank. The farmhouses lay farther back, she supposed. Certainly she had not the faintest idea where she was. The hills were thickly covered with scrub oaks and pines. She had not landed in a friendly spot. It was far more deserted than any place that she had ever noticed along the Rappahannock. At least, so she thought in the gray dawn of the August morning. Yet she knew that there were plenty of kind people who would be glad to help her if she could get over the hills to their homes.